As I rode, I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I had no business even thinking about Jonathon’s Wiese’s intentions, and he had no business stating them. I was engaged to Ebbie Miller, and I loved him with all my heart. In two months, we would be married. It still seemed a little unreal. I’d never been that interested in marriage, unlike some other girls in Kingdom. I loved working in the quilt shop and spending time with my best friend, Lizzie Housler. Getting married had always been . . . unimportant. But in the last couple of years, my feelings for Ebbie, who had been a close friend since we were children, had started to grow into something more. Something stronger. We were both slow to admit our feelings, so our fathers, pleased by our potential union, made wedding plans for us. Ebbie and I didn’t try to dissuade them. We were both excited and looking forward to our upcoming marriage. That’s why these odd feelings for Jonathon confused me.
True to his word, Jonathon drove slowly behind Daisy and me, keeping enough distance so as not to spook my skittish horse. It took almost an hour and a half for us to reach Kingdom. I was very relieved to enter the safety of my hometown.
We passed the large white church building that sat on the edge of town. A few houses dotted both sides of the street, and then our small business area came into view. I loved the wooden walkways that lined the street. Some of the town’s women had planted flowers along the sidewalk. Marigolds, zinnias, and petunias bloomed with vibrant colors, decorating the town with red, yellow, purple, orange, and blue. We rode past Eberly’s Hardware and Menninger’s Saddle and Tack Store. A large sign had been painted and mounted for our newest enterprise, Metcalf’s General Store.
By the time I rode up in front of Kingdom Quilts, I was hot, tired, and thirsty. Jonathon’s presence had certainly made me feel safer. The fear that felt like a tight band around my chest had relaxed, and I’d begun to feel like my old self again.
Jonathon waited until I dismounted and tied up Daisy before getting my packages from his truck. Then he followed me inside the quilt shop, still holding the supplies I’d bought from Flo.
As I entered the store, Papa came from behind the corner. His eyes took in my hair and disheveled condition. “Hope! What has happened to you? Are you all right?” He glared at Jonathon. “Did you have something to do with this?”
“No, Papa,” I said quickly, embarrassed by his outburst. “Jonathon may have just saved my life.”
Jonathon, who had come in behind me, quickly explained what had occurred on the road.
Papa’s face went white, and he rushed up to me. “Were you hurt? Are you injured?”
I shook my head. “A few cuts and scrapes. That’s it. But our buggy will have to be repaired.”
My father hugged me tightly and then frowned at Jonathon. “I am grateful, Brother Wiese, but how is it you happened to be on the road at the same time as my daughter?”
“Papa!” I said. “What a question. I thank God he was there.”
My father let me go. “I do thank God, but I am concerned about the coincidence.”
Jonathon took a step back and stared at Papa through narrowed eyes. “Although I don’t believe I need to explain myself to you, Brother Samuel, I was coming back from Washington after picking up lumber for Noah Housler. I just happened to come upon Hope. Perhaps it was God who arranged for me to be there.”
“Perhaps,” Papa said slowly.
I wished I could sink into the floor and disappear. Feeling I had to say something, I turned my back on Papa and addressed Jonathon, hoping my face wasn’t bright red with humiliation. “I’m very grateful, Jonathon. If it wasn’t for you, I might have been seriously injured today. Thank you so much for your bravery.”
“You’re very welcome.” After giving me a warm smile that made my toes tingle, he left. But first he shot my father a penetrating look that should have made him feel ashamed for his unchristian attitude.
“Papa,” I said forcefully after the door closed behind Jonathon, “what were you thinking? That man risked himself for my safety. How could you talk to him like that?”
He stared down at me. The look on his face was one I knew well, and it meant we weren’t going to talk about this any further. Trying to discuss his attitude toward Jonathon would get us nowhere. If it had been anyone else, my father would have gone out of his way to show his appreciation. Papa and I were so close, yet there were times when he seemed like a complete stranger.
“I saw Aaron Metcalf over at the old feed store building,” Papa said, his tone confirming that our discussion about Jonathon Wiese was at an end. “I am certain he will help me fetch the buggy. Tell me exactly where you left it.”
I quickly described the spot, and Papa nodded. “I know the place you mean.” He went over to the coatrack by the door and grabbed his hat. The light filtering in through the window glinted off his reddish-blond hair and beard. Papa was still a handsome man, but since my mother died, he’d never shown any interest in another woman. I noticed that the arthritis in his legs made his steps slow today, and I wondered if self-consciousness about his condition was the reason he had no interest in female companionship.
After he left, I started putting my supplies away and realized I’d forgotten the new blue fabric for Lizzie and Noah’s quilt. I’d been so distracted by the young woman who’d come into Flo’s shop that I’d left without it. I felt so stupid and ridiculous. My silly reaction had cost me the chance to accomplish something that was very important to me. If I tried to produce the quilt without the right colored fabric, it wouldn’t look right. What could I possibly do now? I ran different scenarios through my head as I worked at putting the rest of the supplies away.
I still hadn’t come up with an acceptable plan by the time Papa returned with Aaron in tow. Aaron had arrived in town almost four years ago, asking permission to buy a house and live here. He met with the elders, who’d approved his request to become one of us, but whatever personal information he’d given them had stayed private. He refused to talk about his past, no matter how innocent the questions posed to him. His standard answer was always, “The past is the past, and I have no interest in talking about it.” I was extremely curious about him, but so far I hadn’t been able to discover anything even remotely interesting.
“Hello, Brother Metcalf,” I said when he stepped inside. “Thank you for agreeing to help Papa bring our buggy home. We appreciate it.” When Papa looked at me strangely, I realized my hair was still down. I’d been so distracted by my failure to bring back the fabric from Washington, I’d forgotten all about it. I tried to pull my wild locks back, feeling mortified that Aaron had seen me appearing in such an unseemly manner. I picked up a stray ribbon under the counter and quickly tied my hair back from my face. A twinge of pain gripped my arm, and I tried not to wince. No point in drawing more attention to myself than I already had today.
Aaron looked me over with surprise. “I’m glad to help, Sister Hope. Your father says you weren’t badly hurt, but I must admit that you look a little worse for wear.”
I smiled at him. “To be honest, I feel somewhat bruised and beaten up. I’ll be glad to clean up and tend to my scratches.”
“Well, I think we should get going,” Papa said. “And like my daughter, I am grateful you can find time away from your projects to help us.”
Before leaving, Papa came over and kissed me on the forehead. “Why don’t we have supper at Lizzie’s tonight? You must be weary after your experience.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.” I tried to keep my tone light, but I was still upset with the way he’d treated Jonathon. Bribing me with a trip to the restaurant wasn’t going to change my feelings.
He put his hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes. “I am so thankful you are safe. God is good. I could not bear to lose you.”
My heart melted a little, and I put my hand over his. “You won’t lose me, Papa. Please don’t worry.”
He squeezed my fingers and blinked away tears. “I am trying, Daughter, but sometimes casting my care on the Lord is more difficult than it should be.”
“I know.” I forced a smile. “But I’m perfectly fine. Shall we leave for Lizzie’s as soon as you return?”
He glanced at the small battery-operated clock we kept on the counter. “Yes. Why don’t you clean up and close the store a little early? You may want to rest some.”
I nodded. “Will you give Daisy some water before you leave? I’m sure she’s thirsty after our long trip.”
“Yes, I will do that.” He hugged me again, which surprised me, since Papa wasn’t usually very demonstrative in front of other people. I said good-bye to Aaron, and they left.
I watched Aaron gently help my father up into the cab of his truck, obviously aware that he was having some trouble with his joints. Several townspeople who passed by greeted Aaron with enthusiasm. The whole town was excited about the new store. Of course, Lizzie was thrilled at the prospect of buying more of her restaurant supplies in town. Although she bought a lot of food items from local farmers, there were some things that could only be found in larger cities like Washington. Having a general store would cut down on weekly treks out of town for the supplies she needed to keep her business running.
After Papa and Aaron drove away, I headed to the back room to fix my hair and try to make myself more presentable. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a piece of polished tin Papa had purchased for the roof of our chicken coop. Horrified by how disheveled I looked, I untied the ribbon holding back my hair and shook it out. Jonathon had said that I looked like an angel, but I doubted seriously that angels were this dirty and messy. I got some water from the pump out back and washed myself off the best I could. Then I treated my scratches with Mercurochrome and put bandages on the larger cuts. Thankfully, I had an extra apron in the closet. I brushed the dirt and leaves out of my hair, pulled it into a bun, and put on a fresh prayer covering. One final glance in my makeshift tin mirror revealed the Hope Kauffman I was used to seeing. Gone was the wild-looking girl with the long, unkempt hair.
I was just starting my chores when the front door opened and Ebbie stepped inside. “Hope, I heard you were assaulted on the road. Are you all right?”
I smiled at him. “I’m fine, and I’m not sure I was assaulted. Someone in a truck thought it would be funny to force me into the ditch.”
Seeing Ebbie made me feel better. I loved his ginger-colored hair that seemed to have no idea where it wanted to lie on his head and his deep brown eyes that reminded me of turned-over earth before planting begins.
“Still, it sounds like you could have been hurt.” He came around the counter and put his hand on my cheek. “If anything had happened to you . . .”
I was startled to hear him use the same words Jonathon had used earlier and stumbled over my reply. “I-I’m all right, Ebbie. Honestly.”
He reached down and kissed me lightly on the cheek, and then he smiled at me. “I would give my life to protect you, Hope. I love you so much.”
I felt my eyes mist. “And I love you too.”
He looked me over and frowned. “You do look a little banged up. Maybe you should sit down. I can help you in the shop if you want.”
I laughed. “No, really. I’m not incapacitated. Just bruised, scratched, and a little humiliated.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded. “I’m so grateful to Brother Wiese. If he hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened.”
Ebbie took a few steps back. “Jonathon Wiese? He was there?”
My face suddenly felt warm, and I hoped I wasn’t blushing. “Yes. He was on his way back from Washington and drove up just as the man in the truck was getting ready to take another run at me. Jonathon chased him away.”
Ebbie’s eyes widened. “Oh, I had no idea. I’ll have to thank him when I see him.”
I nodded, wondering why I suddenly felt so uncomfortable. “That would be nice.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”
I shook my head. “It’s not necessary. I’m sure you have things to do.”
“As a matter of fact, I did tell Ruth Fisher I’d come by and check her roof.”
I grinned. “The trials of an elder.”
He smiled. “It may not sound very spiritual, but God tells us that true religion is caring for the widows and the orphans.”
“I’m sure Ruth is very appreciative of your help.”
He patted his lean stomach. “She knows I love her peach cobbler, so there is always some waiting for me. Payment in full as far as I’m concerned.”
“So I should ask for her recipe and make peach cobbler for you after we’re married?”
He laughed. “And here I didn’t think you could be any more perfect than you already are.” Ebbie glanced at the clock sitting on the counter. “I’d better get going. Do you have plans this evening?”
“Papa mentioned going to the restaurant for dinner.”
“Good. I’ll try to meet you. I’m not sure how long I’ll be at Ruth’s. If I’m not there by the time you’re ready to order, go ahead. Don’t wait for me.”
“All right. But I hope you make it.”
“Me too.”
He brought his other hand around from behind his back and held out a bouquet of forget-me-nots. “Do you remember the first time I gave you flowers?” he asked softly.
I smiled at him and took the flowers. “We were only twelve, and you left them on my desk at school.”
He nodded. “But I was too shy to tell you they were from me.”
“And I had no idea who put them there. I didn’t think of you. We were just friends.”
He gazed deeply into my eyes. “You thought we were just friends. I’ve loved you ever since you were seven. Your mother died and you needed a shoulder to cry on. You sat next to me on the front porch and leaned your head against me. I put my arm around you while you sobbed. I knew then that we were meant to be together.”
“Every time you tell that story I find myself wishing I’d known how you felt. Maybe I would have wanted to get married a long time ago.”
He laughed warmly and kissed me on the nose. “That’s all right. You’ve made up for any slight from our childhood.”
“I’m glad.”
Ebbie smiled at me once more and then walked out the door.
After it closed behind him, I found myself comparing him to Jonathon. Ebbie was thin and lacked Jonathon’s muscular physique. The two men were opposites in most other ways as well. Jonathon was confident and personable, whereas Ebbie was quiet and reserved, a deep thinker. Yet sometimes, when he got excited about something, he reminded me of an overenthusiastic child. The simplest things fascinated him. His zest for life wasn’t something most people got to see, but I’d been blessed to know the real Ebbie. Although I couldn’t say I’d fallen in love when we were young, I’d always felt comfortable around him. Perhaps that was one of the reasons it was so easy to love him now.
Even though Papa suggested I close early, I knew there were still chores to be done, so I got busy. Being alone in the quilt shop made me feel peaceful and happy. I carefully polished the wooden table and four chairs that Papa had crafted. I’d spent many happy hours sitting there, giving lessons in quilting to some of the young women in Kingdom. The pleasant scent of lemon oil filled the room. Then I got a feather duster and dusted the display window next to the door, carefully removing the quilts I’d made and shaking them out. Once they were back in place, I dusted all the shelves that held quilt patterns, colorful spools of thread, embroidery floss, quilting pins, and needles.
I found the quilting and embroidery loops in disorder and wondered if Sophie Wittenbauer had left them in a mess. I usually had to straighten up after one of her visits. Sophie, the daughter of Elmer and Dorcas Wittenbauer, was a young woman with a bad attitude. It was hard to get angry at her though. Her parents showed very little interest in their daughter. Elmer had once been an elder in the church but had withdrawn when Lizzie’s father and John Lapp resigned. In my opinion, Elmer should never have been elected in the first place.
I sighed as I dusted the shelf, and then I neatly restacked the hoops. When I was done, I gazed around the large room and sighed contentedly. Kingdom Quilts was like my second home, and I couldn’t imagine not having it in my life.
After I put the duster away, I carefully wiped down the large cutting table that sat in the middle of the room. I’d just cleaned the large quilting frame in the back room yesterday and knew it didn’t need attention today. It was almost time to schedule another group quilting party. I so enjoyed those times when some of our women gathered to sew quilts, to fellowship and laugh together. Lizzie always provided cookies and coffee for these unique social events, especially since her mother usually joined our group. Most of the time the quilts we made went to a new mother in our community or to someone in the hospital.
As I went through and sorted out the week’s receipts, I struggled to put the terrifying confrontation on the road out of my mind, but it was impossible. How could someone who didn’t even know me be so careless with God’s precious gift of life? Could a fellow human being’s heart really be that dark? It didn’t make sense. Nor did Papa’s attitude toward Jonathon. Basically, Papa agreed with almost all the changes going on in our church. He’d even painted the outside of our store a beautiful cornflower blue after Pastor Mendenhall pointed out that God must like colors since he used so many of them in nature. That was all it took for Papa. Once he had a clear picture of something, he had no trouble following his heart. Jonathon was exactly the same way. As far as I could remember, he had never said anything that didn’t agree with Papa’s views. The situation on the road and Papa’s attitude toward Jonathon bothered me the rest of the afternoon.
Avery Menninger, who owned the saddle and tack store, stopped by around three thirty. “How are you this afternoon, Sister Kauffman?” he said as he came in the door.
“I’m fine. And you?” This was the same greeting we exchanged every afternoon. It never varied. A kind man who’d lost his wife many years ago and whose daughter had moved away to get married, Avery spent quite a bit of time visiting folks in town before going home to his lonely house.
“Well, fair to middlin’. Just fair to middlin’. Bursitis is kickin’ up a bit, but that’s to be expected, I guess. Gettin’ old ain’t a lotta fun.”
“I’ll keep you in my prayers, Brother Menninger.” Sometimes his personality seemed a little gruff, but when you got to know him, you could clearly see his soft heart. Whenever anyone needed help, Avery was the first person on the scene.
“I appreciate that, Sister.” He cleared his throat and held out a paper bag. “Sister Hobson dropped off a whole load of oatmeal cookies this morning. I thought you might like a few.”
Sister Hobson had set her cap for Avery years ago, believing the way to his heart was through his stomach. So far it hadn’t worked, but she persisted and Avery allowed it, probably because she was an incredible cook. Her oatmeal cookies almost melted in your mouth. Someone might have pointed out to Avery that stringing her along wasn’t completely ethical, but they both seemed happy. Sister Hobson had hope, and Avery had lots of home cooking. We shared a couple of cookies together, visited for a while, and then he left.
I decided to take Papa’s advice and close the shop a little early. I’d finished all the chores I’d set out to do, and I wanted nothing more than to take a quick nap on the cot in the back room. But before I could lock the door, it swung open and Sophie Wittenbauer sauntered in.
“Hello, Hope,” she said loudly. Even her voice was irritating. Nasal, whiny, and impudent all at the same time.
“Hello, Sophie,” I said evenly. “I’m about to close. . . .”
She didn’t appear to hear me, or if she did, she ignored me. “I need this order filled.” She shoved a crumpled dirty sheet of paper across the counter toward me. “My mother says you need to take this fabric back and exchange it for what’s on that list.” She reached into the filthy bag she held in her hands and pulled out a wrinkled piece of fabric, dumping it in front of me. I immediately recognized it. I’d sold it to Sophie several weeks ago. Or what was left of it anyway. It was now about half the size of the original piece, and it was stained with something that looked like grape juice. This wasn’t the first time Dorcas had tried to return supplies she’d either ruined or had left over and didn’t need. At first I’d refused to refund her money or give her a replacement, but Papa intervened, explaining that the Wittenbauers had little money and needed our help. That might be true, but since their circumstances were caused by their own carelessness and refusal to work, I felt they should reap what they sowed.
The church had helped them out many times, yet when work was offered or they were asked to help others in our town, the Wittenbauers always had an excuse. Their lack of community spirit wasn’t viewed with much patience. A sense of kinship and willingness to help others was the foundation of life for a Mennonite. Eventually the church’s eagerness to extend charity had dwindled. Except for Papa’s. With his voice ringing in my head, I silently took the ruined cloth and filled Sophie’s order.
Even though she exasperated me, it was hard not to feel sorry for her. The girl was nearsighted and needed glasses but was forced to wear her father’s castoffs. The large black-framed spectacles looked ridiculous and did nothing to help her appearance. Her lifeless dishwater-blond hair was twisted into a messy bun, and loose strands stuck out from underneath a dirty black prayer covering. Sophie wore only black dresses, and it seemed as if she only owned one. It was usually soiled and always wrinkled.
Yet underneath her messy exterior, I recognized a distinct beauty that had little chance of being noticed. Her large amber eyes appeared almost golden in the light and were framed by thick, dark lashes. Her full lips and cheeks were naturally rosy. Since her overall demeanor didn’t convey a sense of good health, the flawlessness of her skin and the color in her cheeks were surprising. I couldn’t help but wonder what Sophie would look like if she cleaned up, got glasses that fit her, and wore a light-colored dress.
Of course, saying something to her about her looks was out of the question. Sophie wasn’t the kind of person who welcomed personal comments or even attempts at kindness. Somehow she managed to look pitiful and still come across as proud and independent. I couldn’t figure out how she managed it, but every time I started to feel sorry for her, as I did now, she’d do something to infuriate me. Today was no different.
“Have you seen Jonathon Wiese around anywhere?” she asked, her voice like fingernails on a chalkboard.
I shrugged as I handed her the brand-new fabric and threads. “I saw him earlier, but I have no idea where he is now. Sorry.” I had no intention of telling her about my encounter on the road. In a town the size of Kingdom she’d find out about it soon enough. She’d probably be sorry the driver of the red truck had missed his mark.
She turned her head sideways and peered up at me. “Jonathon told me I’m his best friend.” She gave me an odd grin and waited for my reaction. She smelled unwashed, and I fought an urge to gag.
“That’s wonderful, Sophie. I’m glad.” I looked at our clock. “I’ve got to close now, but it was nice to see you.”
Liar! I heard my own voice in my head, accusing me of being dishonest. I silently repented.
“Jonathon tells me things he doesn’t tell anyone else, you know.”
I smiled at her, willing her to go away. It didn’t work.
Finally, after a strange staring contest that I lost, she grabbed her bag. “Some people need to leave him alone. He doesn’t like girls who chase him.” With that, she flounced out of the store, leaving me standing behind the counter with my mouth open. What in the world was wrong with that girl? As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I felt ashamed. It was pretty obvious what her problem was: parents who didn’t care about her and only used her to fulfill their own selfish purposes.
Well, at least thinking about Sophie had gotten my mind off other things. I looked at the clock again and realized that Papa could be back anytime. I hurried to the back room, washed my hands, and checked out my image one last time. Sighing at my washed-out complexion, I pinched my cheeks, hoping for some color. Lizzie had remarked more than once about my “flawless alabaster skin,” but the truth was, I looked ghostly and pale compared to her. Lizzie had coal-black hair, and mine was colorless, almost white. The only feature of mine that stood out was my eyes. Ebbie said they reminded him of the purple tulips his mother grew in front of their house. And Papa said I have my mother’s eyes. I can barely remember her face now, but I do recall her incredible violet eyes.
I removed my prayer covering so I could tuck in stray strands of hair that had already escaped from my quickly formed bun. Once my hair felt in place, I put the covering back on. Quite a few of the younger women had stopped wearing them during the day, saving them for church. I couldn’t help but envy them. It would be so nice to go without it sometimes, but keeping my prayer covering was one thing my father insisted on. Most of our older members felt the same way. So for now, the covering would stay. At least I’d been able to switch to a white cap instead of the black one I’d worn all my life. And Papa had allowed me to start wearing dresses with colors and designs. The dress I’d changed into was light blue with small violet flowers. It looked very pretty with a crisp white apron over it. I sighed, adjusted the ribbons that hung on each side of my cap, and made my way back into the main room in our store. Papa was just coming in the front door.
“Our buggy is in Brother Matthew’s building across the street. It will need a lot of repair.” He shook his head. “You could have been badly hurt, Daughter.”
“But thanks to Jonathon, I wasn’t,” I reminded him.
He shot me a look of reproach but didn’t say anything.
“Maybe we should forget about what happened this afternoon,” I said quickly. “Are you ready for supper? I’m starving.”
Papa frowned at me. “I understand your need to get your mind off today’s incident, but we cannot dismiss it completely. There are other Kingdom residents who ride to town on that road. Their safety concerns me.”
His words reminded me of something that had completely slipped my mind. “Papa, I saw John Lapp headed toward Washington before that truck showed up. Until this moment, I’d forgotten about it.”
Papa nodded. “He’s fine. He drove past us while we were retrieving the buggy. But I think we should let everyone in town know what happened to you. Until we are certain it is safe, no one should be out on the main road alone, especially in a buggy.”
“Do you think the men on the road are the same people who’ve been attacking churches in the county, Papa?” I asked softly. “I’m really not convinced the incidents are connected.”
“I don’t know, Daughter,” Papa said slowly, “but I have to admit that I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I’d hate to see our town overreact because of some careless teenager who thought his antics were funny.”
“I understand that, Hope. But what if it was more than that? I think we will all need to be very careful for a while.”
I wanted to bring up Jonathon’s idea to gather some people together to try to set up plans to protect Kingdom, but I didn’t dare. Papa would never understand, and Jonathon might pay a price for my indiscretion.
“It is nothing for you to worry about,” Papa said firmly. “This is something Pastor Mendenhall and the elders will have to address. I do not have the solution.”
“Papa,” I said slowly, “Flo asked me a question I couldn’t answer, and I want to ask how you would have responded.”
“And what is the question, Daughter?”
“If . . . if someone you loved was in danger, would you resort to violence to protect them if there was no other choice?”
His eyes widened before he looked away. I waited in silence for his reply. Finally he cleared his throat. “In truth, Hope, I cannot answer you. I have been brought up to believe we are to live in peace with every man, and when assaulted, we should turn the other cheek. There is nothing wrong with resisting evil, but to use physical force against another human being?” He shook his head. “You are my daughter. I would lay down my life for you. That is all I can say.”
“Thank you, Papa.” He hadn’t really answered my question, and it bothered me.
As we stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk outside our shop, we greeted quite a few friends who were already making their way to Cora’s Corner Café. When it first opened, many in our town had shunned the small restaurant. Our former elders hadn’t approved of a female selling food, stating that it was a woman’s duty to stay home and prepare all the meals her family required. But its original owner, Cora Menlo, had seen a need for the many single men and women in our community. And although business had begun slowly, eventually most of the town embraced Cora’s. It even took the place of some of our church suppers, becoming a popular gathering spot where residents could spend time fellowshiping without all the work a large supper entailed.
After taking over the restaurant from Cora, Lizzie kept the name, even though several of us had suggested she change it. But her love and appreciation for her old employer prevented her from removing Cora’s name. Last month, Cora came for a visit and chided Lizzie for not repainting the large wooden sign that hung outside the red and white building. Secretly, I believe she was touched by Lizzie’s devotion. Cora, who had given Lizzie and her daughter, Charity, a place to live when they needed help, left Kingdom when her sister in Oregon became ill. She sold the restaurant to Lizzie for much less than it was worth and went to care for her sister. Now Lizzie and Noah were able to make a good living because of her generosity.
As Papa and I walked through the front door, Lizzie saw us and hurried over. “Hope and Samuel, I’m so glad to see you both!” She put her arms around me, hugging me fiercely. “Aaron told Noah what happened on the road, Hope. I’m so grateful you’re all right.” She let me go and peered into my eyes. “What if you’d been really hurt?”
Touched by her concern, I smiled. “I’m fine, Lizzie. Really. Just a little rattled. It’s still hard to believe there are people out there who care so little for other human beings.”
She nodded. “I was saying the same thing to Noah.” Her dark eyes were wide with concern. “I saw so much violence when I lived in Kansas City, but Kingdom seems so far away. So remote. It makes us feel this kind of evil can’t touch us.”
“Well, it almost touched us today,” Papa said. “We will all have to be much more careful.”
“There’s an elders’ meeting tonight at the church,” Lizzie said. “They intend to talk about the situation and try to figure out what to do. Noah suggests that we keep our people off the main road. Maybe those of us with trucks can run any necessary errands for a while.”
“I agree,” Papa said. “I will be praying that God will guide our pastor and our elders as they search for wisdom.”
Lizzie patted Papa on the shoulder. “Thank you, Samuel. I know they’ll appreciate your prayers. Now, let’s get you both some supper.” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You look hungry, Hope.”
I laughed. “Actually, I’m starving, and the aromas from your kitchen aren’t helping a bit.”
She grinned. “Good. That means maybe you’ll clean your plate for once. You eat so little, sometimes I get concerned.”
“As do I,” Papa said. “Hope has the appetite of a small bird.”
I shook my head. “You two worry too much. If you had your way, I’d have to let out all my dresses.”
“Wouldn’t hurt you a bit,” Lizzie said, smiling. She finally took her attention off me and looked up at Papa. “Samuel, it’s been a little over a week since you joined us for a meal.”
“Now, Lizzie,” he said, “does that mean you have missed me?”
She chuckled. “Now that you mention it, what was I thinking? How could I miss a feisty old codger like you?”
Papa shook his head and sighed. “I wonder why I keep coming here when all I get is abuse.”
I couldn’t hold back a giggle. Normally my father was not a joker, but Lizzie seemed to bring out a side of him I rarely saw. They had a very special relationship, and I was grateful for it, since Lizzie was the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had.
“If you two are finished, I’m ready to order dinner,” I said.
Lizzie took my father’s arm and led him over to his favorite table in the corner. “Why don’t you two sit here.” She crossed her arms and frowned at Papa. “Now, let me see. I suspect you came for my incredible meatloaf, didn’t you, Samuel? Or my beef stew?” She gazed up at the ceiling. “Yes, that’s it. Beef stew. I’ll get it right away.”
“Very funny,” he said, taking off his wide-brimmed straw hat and putting it on the empty chair next to him. “You have been frying chicken all day just to tempt me. Your efforts have been successful. Bring me a fried chicken dinner, woman. And be quick about it!”
Lizzie was aware that Papa loved her fried chicken, yet she teased him the same way every time he came in. I laughed at the both of them.
“I suppose you want the same thing?” Lizzie asked me.
“Oh yes. Please. I can’t watch Papa enjoy your chicken and not have some myself. The spirit is willing—”
“But the flesh is weak? I’d hate to think I’m corrupting you, but you have no need to worry about your waistline.”
“Then I will enjoy my meal without concern,” I said with a smile.
Lizzie leaned over and lowered her voice. “You should both know that everyone’s talking about Hope’s narrow escape. Jonathon Wiese is getting together some men to guard the town. He feels Kingdom needs to be prepared in case we’re attacked. Noah’s asked him to wait until after the elders’ meeting, but Jonathon doesn’t seem willing to do that.”
Papa’s right eyebrow arched. Not a good sign. “And how does he plan to protect us?” he snapped. “Surely not with weapons of violence.”
Lizzie shrugged. “I really have no idea, Samuel. But if we become targets, we have to defend ourselves.”
Papa’s eyes narrowed as he stared back at her. “Mennonites do not condone violence, Elizabeth. You were brought up here. You know that.”
Lizzie put one hand on her hip and matched Papa’s stare. “I know what I was taught, Samuel, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with everything. Having a relationship with God means you should be led and guided by His Holy Spirit. Not by men. I know what the Mennonite church in this town teaches, but when it comes to defending the life of my daughter, I’ll do whatever I think is best.” She glanced at me. “Are you trying to tell me that if someone tried to hurt Hope, you’d stand by and do nothing?”
Papa’s face began to flush, and I cast a warning look toward Lizzie. She saw it and quickly gave him a forced smile. “I’m sorry, Samuel. That’s not a fair question. I know you’re a good man and that you work hard to honor your beliefs. I guess all I’m trying to say is that the issue isn’t settled in everyone’s mind like it is in yours.”
Papa’s color started to fade, and I breathed a sigh of relief, although I was bothered that this was the second time he’d been asked the same question, and he still hadn’t answered it. Children look to their parents to keep them safe, even when they become adults. Would my father actually allow someone to harm me in defense of his convictions?
“I understand your confusion,” he said after taking a deep breath, “but I must choose peace and forgiveness. It is the way I was raised and the way I brought Hope up. We believe it is the way God would have us respond.”
Lizzie frowned at him but didn’t challenge his statement. Papa included me as if he knew my thoughts, but I certainly had questions. However, I had no intention of telling him that. For now, I’d bide my time and pray about it. At least Papa knew about Jonathon’s group, and I wouldn’t have to be the one to tell him. I wondered how many others there were in Kingdom who didn’t agree with Papa. We had just weathered one huge storm of controversy, and we didn’t need another one with the power to cause an even deeper divide.
“Is Noah here tonight?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“He was for a while, but Jonathon was kind enough to pick up lumber for us while he was in Clay Center. Noah’s trying to get some work done before the meeting.”
Noah had been really busy lately. Besides helping his wife in the restaurant from time to time, most of his attention was geared toward fixing up the old Strauss farm outside of town. Deserted by the Strauss family after the death of their daughter, Ava, it sat abandoned for twenty years, falling into disrepair. Lizzie had fallen in love with it, so they bought it, determined to renovate it and make it their home.
“I’d better get you two some fried chicken before it’s all gone,” Lizzie said, wisely letting the previous debate drop.
I gave her a small nod, signaling my appreciation for her willingness to appease Papa. I knew it wasn’t easy for her to walk away when she clearly believed she was right and Papa was wrong. She did it more for me than for Papa, and I loved her for it.
“Where’s Charity this evening?” I asked before she had a chance to leave.
Lizzie’s seven-year-old daughter, Charity, was usually in the dining room when we visited. Charity was almost a carbon copy of her mother, with blue-black hair and dark eyes. But her widow’s peak and turned-up nose came from her father. She sometimes stopped by the quilt shop after school so I could help her with homework, and we’d become fast friends. I loved her unbridled eagerness, even though she seemed to have an unending list of questions. Many times her curiosity focused on our faith. I tried to answer her inquires the best I could, but lately I’d noticed she’d been rather quiet and introspective. I sensed that something was bothering her but decided to wait for her to bring it up. I wasn’t willing to overstep our friendship and hurt the easy trust we’d built between us.
Charity’s biological father was currently incarcerated in a state prison. Lizzie had chosen not to tell her daughter the truth about him, but I’d begun to wonder if Charity knew more than her mother suspected. People talk. Could Charity have overheard something? Her behavior made me wonder if she was dealing with feelings she didn’t know how to handle. She seemed to be growing up so quickly, but in truth, she was still just a child.
“She’s with her grandparents tonight,” Lizzie said. “She has some worksheets to do, and it’s just too noisy here for studying.”
“She’s really an exceptional student.”
Lizzie nodded. “Charity’s made great progress this year. You and Leah have really helped her.” Although her words were delivered lightly, there was a look in her eyes that concerned me. “Well, I’d better get going,” she said. “It’s going to be a busy night.”
With that, she turned and left, stopping by two other tables to take orders before heading into the kitchen. I gazed around the cozy dining room. The dark wood floors shone, as did the wood paneling that went halfway up the walls. The upper walls were covered with brightly colored red-checked wallpaper, although not much of it was visible, since almost every space was adorned with gorgeous quilts, hand-stitched samplers, and beautifully painted plates. The tables and booths were covered with red-checked tablecloths that matched the walls. In the winter, a fire crackled in the fireplace, but even without the inviting flames, the room exuded warmth. A large ceiling fan moved slowly overhead, circulating the crisp spring air throughout the dining room. I loved this place almost as much as I adored my quilt shop.
As a few other people filtered in for supper, I was relieved to see Callie Hoffman hurry in, going straight for the kitchen. A few minutes later she emerged, wearing an apron and holding an order pad. Besides caring for her sick father, she worked as Lizzie’s right-hand girl at the restaurant. In her spare time, she assisted Leah in Kingdom’s one-room school.
“I do not like this talk of guns and vengeance,” Papa said suddenly. I was so deep into my thoughts that the sound of his voice made me jump.
“I know, Papa,” I said, “but unfortunately, these incidents throughout the county appear to be getting worse. I’m praying that the police will apprehend the people responsible before anyone else gets hurt.”
Papa reached over and took my hand. “I pray the same thing, Daughter. I have to admit that I am angry you were put in danger today, but we must find a way to forgive. We must also pray that the hearts of these men are changed. Obviously they are very unhappy people who need the love of God in their lives.”
I immediately felt ashamed that the same idea hadn’t occurred to me. “You’re so good to think of that, Papa. I’ll certainly pray for them.”
He nodded absentmindedly. “There is something else I need to talk to you about, Hope. It is about all the time you spend with Jonathon Wiese.”
I felt my face get hot, and I withdrew my hand from his. “I don’t spend an inordinate amount of time speaking to Brother Wiese,” I said a little too quickly. “We are friends, Papa. Nothing more.”
His eyebrows knit together, making them look like one long, hairy caterpillar. “You are betrothed to Elder Miller. I am concerned that you may be developing inappropriate feelings for Brother Wiese.”
“Papa!” My shock at his charge was matched only by my dismay at the truth behind his words. “Is that why you were so rude to Jonathon? Because you think I have feelings for him? I’m completely aware of my betrothal, and I look forward to becoming Ebbie’s wife.”
Papa stroked his beard, a sure sign he was worried. I wanted to say something to make him feel better, but my heart betrayed me. My attraction to Jonathon was much stronger than was proper, and try as I might, I couldn’t seem to control it. Before I could speak again, Callie brought coffee to our table. We thanked her, and Papa asked about her father.
“Some days he does quite well, Brother Kauffman,” she replied, “but other days he is barely able to get out of bed.” I could see the sadness in her huge blue eyes.
“I am so sorry to hear that,” Papa said gently. “It has been too long since I have been to visit. May I come by sometime in the next few days?”
Callie’s expression immediately brightened. “Oh yes. Please do. Seeing you would make him so happy.”
Papa nodded. “I will stop by one afternoon this week.”
“That would be wonderful,” she said with a smile. “When I get home tonight, I’ll tell him you’re coming. Thank you so much.”
“I look forward to talking with him. James has been a longtime friend. Forgive me for not calling on him sooner. I will do much better in the future.”
“I understand that you’re busy, and Father understands it too.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “Your meals should be ready shortly. I’ll keep an eye open for them.” She patted me lightly on the shoulder and left to check on a nearby table.
I saw Levi Housler, Noah’s brother, sitting alone. I waved to him, and he nodded toward me. Levi looked a lot like Noah, but he was taller and his hair was blonder. They weren’t much alike in personality though. Noah was extremely social and made friends easily, while most of the time Levi was very quiet and thoughtful. Callie shared with me once that she had set her cap for the gentle, reverential man. I’d been watching them for months, but Levi didn’t seem to notice Callie except as the woman who waited on him whenever he came into the restaurant.
I focused my attention back to Papa and started to make a comment about Callie’s father when Papa suddenly interrupted.
“I have not forgotten our topic of conversation, Daughter. I must insist that you stop spending time with Jonathon Weise. He is stirring up division in the church with his ideas. His beliefs about meeting violence with violence are against our core Mennonite doctrine. I have brought his actions to the attention of our elder board.”
My mouth dropped open. “But you haven’t even heard his suggestions. How can you judge what you don’t know? And approaching the elders about him will surely cause dissension, Papa. How can you accuse Jonathon of divisive behavior and then turn around and do the same thing? I don’t understand—”
“Hope,” Papa said sharply, “we will not have this discussion. You obviously care about this young man, and I believe he also has an unhealthy interest in you. Even though I am in his debt for aiding you this afternoon, I want this relationship nipped in the bud. Now. I will not allow it to continue.”
I felt tears spring to my eyes. Although Papa could be a very severe man, he was usually gentle with me. I felt scolded, yet I hadn’t done anything wrong. Or had I? Indignation rose within me, along with a feeling of shame. Together they made me feel sick inside.
Without warning, Jonathon’s face drifted into my mind. Thick dark hair, blue eyes the color of a cloudless sky, and dark eyelashes that any woman would be proud to own. Emotions boiled that an engaged woman shouldn’t feel toward another man. I tried to push them down, but they wouldn’t be so easily controlled.
As Father quietly sipped his coffee, once again I found myself comparing my fiancé to the man I had such a strong reaction to. Jonathon was a firebrand. Passionate. Intelligent. Interesting. I could listen to him talk for hours. He spoke with enthusiasm, and his ideas sparked excitement in me.
And Ebbie? Once while on a walk, he found an anthill and spent the rest of the afternoon explaining to me the exciting world of ants. How they could lift several times their own weight and how intricately they set up their colonies. I enjoyed his enthusiasm, but would our lives be filled with long stories about bugs? Someday would I find him boring? It hurt to even consider the possibility. I loved Ebbie. But no matter how hard I tried to forget about Jonathon, I just couldn’t seem to do it.
“Hope, I would like to know that you understand me. Your silence does not assure me that you have taken my concerns to heart.”
My father’s curt comment snapped me out of my contemplation.
“Yes, Papa,” I said slowly. “I hear you, but I don’t agree. Jonathon and I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of, and I don’t want to lose his friendship.”
“I do not care what you want,” he said harshly. “I believe I know what is best in this situation and would appreciate it if you would not question my authority. You will not speak to this man again, and that is the end of it.”
I glanced around, looking to see if anyone was paying attention to us. Thankfully, all the other customers seemed to be more interested in their own conversations than they were in the drama unfolding at our table.
“Papa,” I said quietly, “will you please lower your voice? You’re embarrassing me.”
“Your discomfort is not my concern. My concern is for your soul. Jonathon Weise is dangerous and not just because I do not agree with his views. The way he looks at you is . . . sinful.”
“Papa,” I hissed, “I am twenty-six years old—not a little girl anymore. I manage the quilt shop—”
He started to protest, but I held up my hand to stop him. “Yes, I know you own the store, but you don’t spend much time there. You have to admit that I actually carry out our day-to-day operations. My point is that I am a grown woman, responsible, and level-headed. When will you trust me? When will you allow me to make my own choices?”
Without warning, Papa jumped to his feet. “I will not have a daughter of mine running around with a man like Jonathon Wiese. Either you will stop seeing him or you will move out of my home. You are engaged to be married, but your interest in this man is obvious. You are humiliating yourself and causing me shame. I will not have it!”
Papa stormed out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind him. I didn’t need to look around me this time. The silence in the dining room made it clear that everyone had heard. I was so embarrassed I could barely raise my head. And when I finally did, I saw Ebbie standing a few feet from our table. The look on his face made my heart sink.